Enticing
by platinumheart021
Summary: A scoff escapes Katniss' lips, "So what? They like me because I was the first one in District 12 to volunteer in a long time?" Another dark chuckle escapes Haymitch. "No, not quite sweetheart. They don't care about volunteers either." "Then what?" "Because you're desirable." Give it a try! R&R


_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games trilogy in any way, shape or form. If I did, it would be totally different.**_

1. Desirable

Katniss sat rigidly on the plush train chair. She observed everything around her without moving her head at all, just merely using her peripheral vision. She could see her fellow tribute, Peeta Mellark, anxiously fidgeting in the seat next to her, his eyes darting about the spacious carriage. She could see the expensive furniture and over the top food decorating the space. Seeing all this, she couldn't quite believe what just happened in the span of over an hour.

Just over an hour ago, they were both standing in the town square of District 12, waiting for the announcement of their District's tribute for the 70th Hunger Games. It was the same every year, the escort, Effie Trinket, would come in dressed in a ridiculous attire and play a video that was sent by the Capitol. The video would always show the destruction of District 13, clearly sending the message that if anyone ever dared to rebel against the President, then they would face the same consequences as 13.

It wasn't a very long procedure, the reaping that is. In fact, it seemed that this year's reaping was relatively short. Katniss wasn't sure if it was because she mentally zoned out through the second half of it or what. The last thing she could remember was volunteering as tribute right after her little sister's name was called out. She could remember the desperation that clawed at her heart when Effie called Prim's name out. She knew then and there that she had to protect the person that she held the closest to her heart.

After she stepped on the stage and announced herself as Prim's older sister, Effie continued on to the male tribute. It was no other than Peeta Mellark, the boy who saved her years ago from starving to death. Flashbacks of what happened suddenly over-rode her senses and it became clear to her that she might not get the chance to ever repay him for what he did to her.

They were only allowed three minutes to say goodbye to their loved-ones and after that they were shoved into the fast-moving train. After briefly explaining what they'll go through when they reach the Capitol, Effie told them to wait for their mentor in the dining carriage. That was ten minutes ago.

With every minute that passed, Katniss noticed that Peeta became more and more fidgety. When she thought that she couldn't take it anymore and probably have to calm him down herself, Haymitch walks in with an empty bottle in hand.

He walks – no; staggers towards the tray filled with bottles of alcohol and briefly asks where the ice was. Katniss took her time to observe the Hunger Games victor in front of her. Haymitch, in lack of a better word, was highly intoxicated. It didn't look like he had a bath yet either. His clothes were disheveled and his hair a tangled mess.

In her time of observing him, she didn't realize that he was staring at her with an unrecognizable look in his eye. Narrowing her own, she scowled at the man who only took a swig at his new beverage.

"So," He starts, slowly ambling towards the seat in front of her. "You two are this year's tributes."

Katniss did nothing but stare at the man in front of her who looked both her and Peeta up and down, as if sizing them up. Peeta was of course the one who spoke.

Peeta clears his throat before he talks, "Yes, we are. I'm Peeta Mellark and this is—"

He was rudely interrupted by Haymitch as he cut him off with a, "I know who you both are."

Peeta flushes and stutters, "Y-yes, sorry."

Katniss did nothing but observe the two speak. She really didn't feel like being here right now. She would rather go ahead and rest until they reached the Capitol where they would be handed over to some so-called 'Prep-team' to get pretty. Her mind goes back to reality when she hears Peeta clearing his throat once again.

"So when do we start?" He asked as a sudden determination filled his eyes.

"When do we start what?" Haymitch took another swig off his glass of alcohol.

"Training." Peeta said sounding confused at his mentor's words.

"Oh, that," Haymitch hiccupped, "Well, a bit too late to start training now ain't it?"

"Y-yeah I know, but we still have to prepare right?" Peeta stuttered, clearly embarrassed, "Besides, you're our mentor, you're supposed to give us tips on how to survive the games."

A chuckle suddenly escapes Haymitch's lips. Katniss eyes him suspiciously. His chuckle sounded dark and was not filled with humour at all. There was a sudden shift in the air. Haymitch no longer looked drunk as he stared hard at the two teens in front of him.

"The only tip I can give you is to get people to like you so you can survive," He says seriously. But then he looks at Katniss dead in the eye and smirks rather darkly, "But that won't be too hard for you sweetheart, it seems that some of the Capitolites have already started betting on you."

For the first time, Katniss spoke. "What?" Her voice sounded hoarse that she internally flinched.

"Yeah, what do you mean?" Peeta asked, "Isn't it too early to start betting on a tribute?"

Pouring himself another glass, Haymitch doesn't talk until he downs it, "It doesn't matter to them if it's too early or not, once they see a tribute that they like, they will not hesitate to spend their money on them."

A scoff escapes Katniss' lips, "So what? They like me because I was the first one in District 12 to volunteer in a long time?"

Another dark chuckle escapes Haymitch. "No, not quite sweetheart. They don't care about volunteers either."

"Then what?" Katniss was getting quite worked up now. She didn't like the idea of the Capitolites already betting on her so early on when the games haven't even started yet. Something about it feels so off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Because you're desirable."

The moment those words left Haymitch's mouth, both tributes froze. The word itself should make one feel good. To be called desirable should feel like a great compliment. However, it was what Haymitch's expression and the tone of his voice that made the word sound vile and tainted. Like it was something only a scum of the Earth should be called. And something inside Katniss knew that, that title would forever haunt her until her last dying breath.


End file.
